


Eve

by GravityGarbage



Series: The beast you've made of me (The Werewolf!Stan remix) [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Biting/Marking, Here there be incest be kind to yourselves my dudes, Knotting, M/M, Stancest - Freeform, Werewolf!Stanley, Yep it's a knotting fic, grunkle fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 06:46:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18204929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GravityGarbage/pseuds/GravityGarbage
Summary: On the night before the full moon, Stan and Ford have a routine. They get the kids packed up and off to Soos’ house for a few days, just to make sure they’ll be safe, and then retreat to the basement to squeeze in a bit of extra time for themselves before Stan’s mind is completely taken over by the wolf.





	Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I've decided to archive my old grunkle sin works here on the off chance Tumblr decides to eat them during the Great Purge. (: Have fun and let me know if you think I need to add additional tags.

_Crash! Bang! CRRRACK!_

“MOTHERFU-!”

Ford hurriedly reached out and clapped his hands around Mabel’s ears before the rest of Stan’s bellowed curse reached them, sighing in relief when no further expletives were forthcoming. 

Mabel, so used to this occurrence by now that she hadn’t even looked up from her coloring book chose that moment to pipe up, “Grunkle Stan sure gets a case of the grumpy-grumps during his time of the month, huh Grunkle Ford?”

Ford fought back a smile even as he leaned cautiously back in his chair, ready and willing to spring up again at a moment’s notice should the need arise. “Indeed. Let’s just be glad that it _only_ happens once a month, hm?”

The girl giggled. “I dunno Grunkle Ford, Stan sure can get creative with his cursing when he gets like this.” 

Her smile faltered slightly. “Are you super-duper, one-hundred-and-ten-percent sure we can’t stay this time Grunkle Ford? I promise Dipper and I won’t go anywhere near the basement. Scouts’ honor!” 

She clapped one hand over her heart to demonstrate her sincerity.

The man quirked one side of his mouth up in a lopsided smile at the earnest expression on her little face even as his brow furrowed with concern. “Now Mabel we’ve talked about this. It’s just safer for you and Dipper to stay with Soos during these times. Not to say I don’t trust you and your brother, but accidents do happen. How do you think Stan would feel if he ended up hurting one of you while it was happening? You know he’d never forgive himself.”

Her hand dropped back down to rest at her side and she averted her gaze back to the colorful drawing she’d been working on for the better part of an hour. “I know. And I know I definitely don’t wanna get turned into Mabel-Kibble but…”

“But?” Ford prompted when it became apparent she wouldn’t continue.

She turned back to look at him, brown eyes big and round with curiosity. “But how come it’s safe for you if it’s not safe for us? Aren’t you afraid you’ll get used as a squeaky chew-toy too?”

Ford felt a flush beginning to creep up his neck and over his ears at the memories his mind decided to conjure in that moment of all the various times his twin had indeed used him as a-ah, _squeaky chew-toy_ since this whole mess began a month ago. 

He coughed into his fist to hide his blush and cleared his throat expansively. “Now don’t you worry about that. I have, uh, ways of subduing Stanley that you two don’t.”

“You mean cause you’re a super-awesome space-time adventurer type person?”

He couldn’t suppress another grin at the eager light that lit up her expression from within as her imagination no doubt ran wild with ideas about what sort of adventures he may or may not have gotten up to while on the other side of the portal. 

Truthfully, half the reason he hadn’t told the children more about his time dimension-hopping through the multiverse was because listening to their wild theories and the improbable, convoluted stories they made up about it was way more entertaining than the truth in most cases.

“Yes, something like that.” He checked his watch and frowned, getting to his feet. “Speaking of which, you’d better get going. Soos should be here in a few minutes. You’re sure Dipper knows the plan for tonight?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” She nodded as she swept her various crayons, markers, and assorted glitters into her backpack and hopped down from her seat at the table. “He even made one of those over-complicated list-y things. I bet you five-dollars he’s already sitting in the passenger seat when Soos pulls up.”

That was a bet Ford promptly lost when they walked out onto the porch a few seconds later only to find Soos’ battered old pick-up already waiting and a nervous-looking Dipper already safely ensconced in the front seat. Ford shook his head and sighed good-naturedly as he obediently placed a five-dollar bill in Mabel’s waiting palm.

She beamed up at him, all white teeth and braces and gave him a quick hug around the middle before flouncing down the steps toward the truck, waving and calling over her shoulder, “Bye-bye Grunkle Ford! Tell Grunkle Stan I said ‘bye’ and 'see you in a couple days’! Have fun!”

Ford lifted a hand in an absent wave of his own, staying on the porch to watch until the truck was safely out of sight. As soon as he could no longer see the dust-clouds kicked up my the trucks’ passing he took a deep breath to fortify himself, straightened his shoulders, and marched back inside with his head held high; an outward confidence which belied the mingled anticipation and nervousness churning in his gut.

He eased into the house cautiously but didn’t see any immediate signs of Stan. Relaxing minutely, he headed for the kitchen, sure that had been the source of his brother’s earlier outrage. Sure enough, one of the cabinet doors above the stove was hanging forlornly from one warped hinge and another had been ripped off it’s hinges completely and lay abandoned in a pile of splinters on the cracked linoleum.

Stanford shook his head wordlessly and grabbed the broom and dustpan. No sooner had he finished depositing the worst of the mess in the trash can then did he hear Stan’s voice from the doorway.

“Sorry. Was gonna do that.”

Ford fidgeted with the broom, rolling the handle back-and-forth between his palms in a blatant ploy to keep from looking at his twin. “It’s quite alright Stanley. I know you still have problems controlling it this close to the full-moon. No use crying over spilled milk and all that.”

“Yeah.” He sounded closer now, as if he’d stepped further into the room and Ford’s pulse jumped with surprise; he hadn’t even heard him move. “The kids gone?”

Ford’s heart was jack-hammering against his ribs now, though he still couldn’t tell whether it was from excitement or trepidation. Possibly both. He swallowed reflexively. “Yes.”

“Good.” The growled response was all the warning Ford got before he was abruptly grabbed and spun around, the broom clattering unceremoniously to the floor as he was slammed back-first into the wall next to the refrigerator.

Stan wasted no time in pressing their bodies together, molding himself to Ford’s front and burying his face in his brother’s neck, greedily sucking down lungfuls of his scent while Ford attempted half-hearted protest. “Stanley! Stan, n-not in the kitchen! C-can’t this wait until we get down to the- _ah_!” 

Stan had nipped him and his head fell back of it’s own accord, reflexively offering up more of his throat for the same treatment.

“Can’t wait,” Stan fairly snarled against his twin’s pulse point, laving at the junction between neck and shoulder with an inhumanly hot tongue, making his brother twitch and shudder against him. “Need you now.”

“O-okay,” Ford agreed, fighting to keep his wits about him even as he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around his twin’s broad shoulders and burying both hands in his hair to urge him in even closer. “B-but not in the kitchen Stan- _ah_!-l-lee please. We eat in here.”

Stan snorted. “Wasn’t planning on fucking you on the kitchen table Sixer. Although,” he drew back just enough to look his twin in the eye, smile wide and undoubtedly wolfish, filled as it was with sharp canine teeth. “That is a thought.”

Ford shivered at the very idea that his brother might decide to bend him over here and now, eyes rolling back a bit at the mental image Stan’s words conjured. He wouldn’t deny the suggestion was an interesting one, but still. 

“Be-be reasonable Stanley. Th-the table would never survive it. How-how would we e-explain that to the-to the kids?”

Stan shrugged, his words muffled with how his mouth was currently pressed up under the edge of Ford’s jaw. “Tell 'em I broke it in a fit of rage. They’d believe it.”

“Be-be that as it may, I still don’t th-think-!” 

He cried out, sentence breaking off in the middle as Stanley sucked at the sensitive spot just below his ear, mouth scorching hot and sharp teeth scraping teasingly over the soft skin. He wound his fingers through his brother’s hair, unable to resist pulling him closer for a moment before he gathered the willpower necessary to yank him away.

“B-bed,” he panted. Stan licked his lips and Ford whined low in his throat. “Bed. Basement. Now please?”

Stan sighed in reluctant agreement; he couldn’t deny his twin anything when he looked at him like that, especially not when he begged so pretty. 

“Yeah alright. Basement, I get it.” His smile was absolutely predatory. “Want me to chase you?”

Ford gulped at the gleam apparent in his brother’s eyes as he said it. “Y-you’d catch me.”

“I know.” His smile broadened and his brown eyes flashed gold, just for a second. “That’s half the fun.”

Ford slowly edged out from his place trapped between his brother and the wall. “I don’t think that’s the best-”

He bolted before he even finished speaking, a mischievous grin of his own pulling at his lips, his heartbeat thundering far too loud in his ears at the sound of his twin’s wild whoop of laughter as he immediately gave chase.

Ford may have been in better shape but with the wolf this close to the surface on the night before the full-moon, Stan outpaced him easily, fairly tackling him into the elevator as soon as Ford reached it.

The next few minutes between the automatic door sliding closed and stumbling out of the elevator into the basement were forever a blur to Stanford; he couldn’t even recall which of them had smacked the appropriate button and in that moment he didn’t much care.

All he cared about right then was the hot tongue rubbing slickly against his own and the way his twin fairly crushed him into the wall of the elevator with his bulk. The way Stan grabbed him by the crook of each knee and lifted him off the floor with ridiculous ease, encouraging Ford to wrap his legs around his waist, which he did without thinking, allowing his brother to support his entire weight without even a hint of the strain such a thing should have been putting on his back. The way Stan carried him out of the elevator without preamble, striding across the mostly empty space of the lab and dropping him with a short bounce onto the mattress heaped with blankets that had been recently installed down there for that express purpose.

Ford managed to struggle out of his trenchcoat before Stan was on him once more, slanting their mouths together and pressing Ford down into the mattress with his full weight. The pressure combined with the headiness of having his twin above him made Ford’s head swim dizzingly just as it always did, sufficiently distracting him so that at first he didn’t even notice that Stan’s claws had rent his sweater apart until he felt hands on his bare flesh.

Startled, irritated, and maybe just a little bit more turned on then he should have been, Ford wrenched his mouth away long enough to yelp in protest. “ _Stanley_! Be more careful with-!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Stan dismissed easily, already in the process of divesting his twin of his slacks and underwear. “You only have so many ugly old man sweaters, I get it. Have Mabel knit you a new one. Besides,” he broke off long enough to flick one of Ford’s exposed nipples with the tip of his tongue, making his brother gasp and arch up into his mouth. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

“I-I-” He groaned and fisted his hands in Stan’s hair when his brother returned his attentions to Ford’s bared chest. “W-why would I l-l- _like_ having my-my- _ah_! clothing d-destroyed?”

“Dunno.” Stan shrugged as he started sucking and biting his way up from Ford’s bellybutton to his throat. “But I know you do. Can smell it on you.” He buried his nose back in the curve of his twin’s neck and breathed in harshly. “Can smell how much you want this, want me, _God_ Ford you smell amazing.”

“Th-that’s just the- _uh_ -the wolf talking.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” 

Finally succeeding in getting the rest of Ford’s clothes off, he sat back on his heels to better appreciate the picture his twin made splayed out beneath him, naked but for his fogged over glasses sitting askew on his face, salt-and-pepper hair rucked up and pointing in every direction, mouth red and face flushed as he panted.

A deep-chested rumble of satisfaction rolled out of Stan at the sight, and his eyes shone gold in the half-light of the scarcely lit basement. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. All that matters right now if that you’re here and that you want me and that you’re mine. Right?”

Stanford blushed an even deeper red but nodded all the same. “Of course. Yours.”

Stan smiled and for once their was nothing animalistic about it as he leaned down to kiss his brother again, a careful, gentle kiss entirely different from the rushed, frantic pace of earlier. 

Ford sighed happily and relaxed into it, returning the lazy swipes of Stanley’s tongue with his own, content for the moment to just lay there and be kissed despite the urgent heat of Stan’s body pressed fully against him and the way his own erection still bobbed heavy between his legs. They had all night after all.

Ford lost track of time while they kissed and by the time Stan finally pulled back to allow them both a much needed breath, Ford found his brother had somehow finished undressing and deposited both of their glasses safely on the floor next to the mattress in the interim. He blinked in confusion at the slightly blurred ceiling and shifted slightly, only to immediately gasp when the movement caused his cock to slide against his twin’s. Apparently he’d wrapped his legs back around his brother’s hips without even noticing.

Stan grunted at the unexpected friction and flexed his hands where they were buried in the blankets on either side of Ford’s hips. Ford could hear the material rip and knew Stan’s claws must have caught and rent holes in the fabric and that knowledge really should not have made him whimper and buck up against the other man but that’s exactly what he did. An action which prompted Stanley to snarl and grip his hips warningly, careful to keep those sharp claws away from his brother’s skin.

“Better stop while you still can Sixer. We haven’t even gotten to the main event yet.” 

Ford could tell Stan was rummaging around in the messy bed-covers looking for something and he quickly grabbed a few pillows to shove under his hips and back so he could sit up and eagerly reach for the bottle his twin held out to him.

Stan chuckled when Ford snatched the bottle of lube away and immediately began coating his fingers. “Somebody’s eager to get started tonight.”

Ford attempted to glare at his brother even as he lowered his prepared hand between his own spread thighs. “Can you blame me? What with the way you’ve been- _ah_!” He couldn’t resist the small noise that punched out of him as he slowly pressed one finger past the tight ring of his entrance. “B-been- _uh_ teasing me a-all day.”

The apparent innocence in Stan’s expression was betrayed by the hungry look in his eyes as he watched Ford’s own fingers stretch himself open. “Me, a tease? I have no idea what you mean.”

“Sure you d-don’t,” Ford gasped as he twisted his wrist, two fingers pressing deep inside himself now. “B-brushing up against m-me in the hall-hallway, c-c-coming out of nowhere to k-kiss me sense-senseless in the-in the kitchen when the k-k-kids weren’t looking. W-whispering-” He hissed at the stretch of slipping a third finger in beside the others. “Whispering w-what you were g-gonna do to m-me t-t-tonight after th-they left.”

He let his head fall back on a full-body moan he didn’t even try to suppress, too far gone to continue as the mild discomfort of being too full changed into the torturous pleasure of not being full enough.

His twin didn’t respond. 

“S-Stan?” He managed, raising his head up to glance at his brother only to let it fall back with a groan. Stan’s eyes were burning fully gold now and the way he was looking at Ford like a delicacy he wanted to devour…Ford shivered and withdrew his fingers with a whimper, angling his hips up and rubbing himself shamelessly against his twin, so empty it _ached_. “Stan? Lee. Lee, please-”

“On your knees.” Came the growled command and Ford didn’t think twice before obeying, flipping over onto his stomach and raising himself shakily to his forearms and knees, anticipation making his heart stutter and his body tremble.

“Lee,” he whined as the seconds passed and his brother still hadn’t touched him yet. “Lee, pl-”

He gasped when clawed hands suddenly flew to his hips and yanked him backwards until the curve of his backside was flush with Stan’s hips, crying out when his twin’s thick, leaking cock was dragged teasingly over his entrance, the tip catching on his rim without fully pressing in. 

The motion was repeated again, and again, and again until Ford was driven half mad with want, clawing uselessly at the sheets and babbling nonsense, nearly sobbing with need, every nerve in his body already on fire, every muscle strung taunt as he pleaded with his brother, “Please, _please_ , Lee, please! Need you in me, please, need you, oh God, I can’t take it. Oh please, Lee, _Lee_ , please, _fuck me_ -!”

With a guttural snarl that might have been a curse or might have been Ford’s name, claws biting into the skin of his twin’s hips, Stan finally quit torturing them both and gave them what they both so desperately wanted. He pulled back and then snapped his hips forward, plunging himself deep into his brother in one long, relentless slide.

Ford’s body jerked, the muscles in his back spasming as he instinctively clenched down around the length inside of him, making all the air leave his lungs at once and making Stanley hiss and press in even deeper. There was a moment of stillness, a half-second allowed for them both to adjust before Stan was pulling back and then driving back in again, setting a quick, brutal pace that had Ford crying out every time he was filled and keening with loss every time Stan withdrew.

Ford came untouched soon after that, having been on the edge too long to last more than a few minutes. But along with strength and speed the bite had also given Stanley the kind of stamina no other man his age could match and so he kept going, fucking Ford through it, stroking him back to full hardness even as his brother wailed and thrashed with over-stimulation.

Soon enough Ford was as hard as if he’d never come and panting on the end of every exhale, pushing back to meet his twin’s thrusts, mind utterly blank and mouth hanging open as he squealed and sobbed and begged for moremoremoremore _more_. 

Stan’s thrusts were becoming erratic and disjointed, and Ford knew what was coming, knew deep in his bones that his twin wouldn’t last much longer, knew what that meant and he was too far gone to be ashamed as he babbled, “Come on, come on, come on! Do it, please, I want it, want it so bad, please don’t stop, come on, come on, give it to me, please, _please_!”

His voice cracked and broke on the last word as Stan growled and grabbed him around the waist, hauling up so that he was sitting upright in Stan’s lap as he started to come, scorching wet heat flooding his insides even as his twin continued to pound into him and the base of his cock started to swell. Ford dug his own blunt nails into his brother’s sides, urging him on, panting for _more_ , deeper, faster, “don’t stop, oh God please don’t stop!”

Three more hard thrusts and then Stanley was clamping his jaw shut around his twin’s shoulder, sharp canine teeth biting in deep as his knot slipped inside Ford’s loosened entrance. He wrapped his hand around his brother’s neglected erection, stroking once, twice, and then Ford was coming with a scream so loud it echoed through the room and made Stan’s ears ring long after it should have faded.

They remained that way for a long time, until both of them could once more breathe without gasping and Ford had finally stopped shaking. Stan carefully shifted them until they were both lying curled together on the heap of hopelessly disheveled blankets, Stan’s knot still tying them together.

Ford sighed as Stan’s lips brushed lightly over his neck and shoulders, not quite kissing, just touching for the sheer pleasure of it. A feather-light kiss was also bussed over the rapidly purpling and sluggishly bleeding bite on Ford’s shoulder. 

“Sorry about this by the way,” Stan slurred, half-asleep but fighting it, ready to get up and fetch the first-aide kit as soon as his body allowed him to. “I know werewolf bites don’t work unless it’s the full moon but damn that musta hurt.”

His twin hummed drowsily. “To be honest I was too high on endorphins to feel any pain. And my sweater should hide it, so there’s no harm done.

Stan snorted in mild surprise. “You’re taking this pretty well. Figured you’d be mad.”

Ford just hummed again and reached over his shoulder to pat his brother affectionately on the temple. “Shh. No more talking. Only sleep now.”

Stan huffed a laugh and hid his smile in the nape of the other man’s neck, tightening his hold and curling up even tighter around him, the purely 'wolf’ part of his mind more than content for the moment to just cuddle up with his mate until the frenzy brought on by the eve of the full moon returned. “You got it Sixer. Take a nap; you’re definitely gonna need it.”

Ford didn’t respond but that was because he was already asleep, a small smile of his own still crooking up one corner of his mouth, perfectly happy in a way he hadn’t been in almost forty years.


End file.
